


Breaking Point

by TheInvisibleMika



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Cyclonus and Tailgate talk to each other for once in their lives, Don't worry about it everyone's okay now, Extremely brief mention of self harm, Fix-It, M/M, Post Lost Light 7, Whirl is a good friend?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-04
Updated: 2018-02-04
Packaged: 2019-03-13 15:03:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13573059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheInvisibleMika/pseuds/TheInvisibleMika
Summary: Cyclonus knew that Tailgate didn't want to leave him. But why was he leaving in the first place - and what could Cyclonus do to stop him?[Lost Light 7 spoilers!]





	Breaking Point

"You and me... I don't know if we're that good together."

There was a brief pause after Tailgate spoke, in which Cyclonus turned his head to the side, hid his optics, and considered again that this exact scenario was one of the many hellish nightmares that had manifested in his worrying processor.

"I don't believe you," he said. It came out softer than he expected. The tone would've surprised him had he been paying attention.

Tailgate leaned forward, his expression unreadable. "Sorry?"

"I said  _I don't believe you."_

Another pause. A small click of a transformation seam jerked Cyclonus away from his stupor, to the attention of Tailgate's hand reaching for his subspace pocket. (The same hand that Cyclonus wrapped his own hands around, but only in times of fear - he wished dearly he could do it again.)

Within his grasp was a long chain, fitted in approximation to hang from his neck, the end of which dangled a vial of Cyclonus' innermost energon.

"Here," Tailgate said, pushing it forward.

"No."

Tailgate made the gesture again. "It's your innermost energon, not mine."

Cyclonus stopped to regain his composure - he had lost control of the situation. The hurt and regret in Tailgate's expression became much more clear as he did.

"You don't want to do this," Cyclonus replied, hoping to the Primus he once preached for that he was correct.

Tailgate pulled the necklace back. "Is that... a threat? Are you  _threatening_  me?" His expression turned to shock, but then almost... anger?

"No, I..." Cyclonus broke his gaze. "I mean it as, rather, I have reason to believe that breaking our ties was not a choice you made independantly."

"Maybe it wasn't." The necklace was placed back into Tailgate's subspace pocket, but he still did not seem happy. "Maybe I  _did_  receive a tip from someone.  _Maybe_  that's because you never  _tell me anything!"_

Cyclonus scowled. "For all that Whirl has helped in the past - and I will  _admit,_  he  _has_  - it is  _not_  his place to do  _conjunx counselling!"_

And then Tailgate did something... odd. Or rather, he  _reacted_  oddly, bringing the conversation to a screeching halt.

He stepped back. He was no longer dominating the conversation. His visor turned foggy, as if he stopped focusing on reality, and instead was looking at something in his processor.

Cyclonus brought himself forward just half a step, bringing his arms out slightly. "Tailgate?" he asked, looking on in confusion.

"The conjunx ritus," Tailgate said in a hushed voice. "I never..."

_"Tailgate?"_  Cyclonus replied, more firmly this time.

Tailgate shook his head, looking down. "I never told you. I never  _told you!_  With how busy things have been since, I-I guess I just... forgot..."

Cyclonus took another step forward. He chanced placing a hand on Tailgate's shoulder, and the minibot let him.  _"What_  about a conjunx ritus, Tailgate?"

"Do you remember..." Tailgate stopped himself, waving his hand to dismiss the statement. "No, of course you do. Y'know the... the four acts? Intimacy, Disclosure, Profference, and uh..."

_"Devotion,"_  Cyclonus said, noticing the slight jump in Tailgate's frame.

"Right,  _devotion._  Um... when I was suffering from cybercrosis, we..."

Cyclonus looked on as Tailgate fumbled with his words.

"When you sang to me, you held my hand. A-and you have since then, actually... not to mention when you saved me from Megatron and the security guards, you, ah... kis-- you were very close to my, um, helm."

"I recall," Cyclonus said shortly. "If I was overstepping my boundaries... please know that I was not putting much thought into my actions, as I assumed I would be dead within seconds."

"Right," Tailgate nodded, looking rather concerned. "So there's that. And then around that time - the cybercrosis thing - I said something like, "please don't go", or something about that pitiful," he continued with a nervous laugh.

"I didn't judge you for it," Cyclonus reassured him.

"And then I gave you your replacement horn."

"Tailgate, where is this going?"

"Wait, just-- just wait. And then, finally... you saved my life. So many times. And practically every time... you got hurt in the process. Even, like...  _last night."_

Cyclonus frowned. "I'm afraid I don't follow."

Tailgate huffed, searching the ground for something other than Cyclonus to look at. "What I'm  _saying_  is... officially speaking, I guess it doesn't count. But that was... it. We did it."

"Did what?"

"The-- the acts. The four acts."

A long silence grew between them. Cyclonus briefly considered fleeing, or even taking a step back, but he found that his pedes were firmly attached to where he stood. He then considered making an intelligent reply, one that would break the tension and assure Tailgate that... something, anything to make him stay.

After a long consideration, Cyclonus sputtered an incredibly wise "U-uh."

Tailgate threw his hands up, exasperated. "I don't know! I don't know, I don't -- I don't think it counts! Nobody  _tells_  me anything, God, I just don't  _know!_  And I  _get_  it, right, you don't  _want_  a conjunx!  _Fine!_  But for crying out loud, last night Whirl told me that there's an  _official "When Cyclonus and Tailgate Are Gonna Hook Up" betting table!_  This has existed since after  _Hedonia!"_

Cyclonus closed his optics, turning to face the ground again. "I can't  _believe_  him, being so  _rude_  to--"

"Not just  _Whirl,_  Cyclonus," Tailgate said, his visor narrowing. "I mean the  _entire ship_  except for Ultra Magnus and Rung.  _Ratchet_  bet on it!  _Ratchet,_  Cyclonus! And  _Ten!_  And even-- even  _Megatron,_  apparently, but Whirl might've been joking with that one. But he might  _not've_  been!"

"Ah," was all that Cyclonus could manage.

Tailgate sighed. "So let's... let's settle this. Cyclonus, are you... do you..."

"I can't say it, either."

"So you  _are--"_

"You haven't asked me yet!"

Again, Tailgate sighed, but this time it was more of a groan. "Okay! Yeah! How about, uh... hm. Turn off your optics."

"Alright," Cyclonus said, only dimming his to their lowest brightness, retaining his sight somewhat.

"If you  _like_  me - I mean, you know, if you want to date for a little bit but you've got other things in mind and don't care that much - extend your right hand."

"And what of my left?"

"Extend your  _left_  hand if it's more like... you  _love_  me. The whole conjunx thing freaks you out because it's  _unexpected,_  but it's not... unwelcome. And obviously, extending no hands means y--"

Before Tailgate could finish, Cyclonus's left hand shot up to reach towards him.

"Oh," Tailgate said softly.  _"Oh."_

Cyclonus' hand remained raised. Hesitantly, with his arm wavering, Tailgate too lifted his hand to hold Cyclonus'.

In turn, Cyclonus closed his digits around Tailgate's smaller hand. Slowly, his optics grew brighter, until he and Tailgate were staring straight into each other.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Tailgate said, inching closer.

"I thought you were better off knowing," Cyclonus replied, mirroring Tailgate's step. "You deserve someone warmer, less distant... someone who hasn't done the things I have. And yet I couldn't leave you. Partially because when I was alone, I felt like part of my soul was missing... and partially because you never left my side for long."

At this point, Cyclonus was close enough to wrap his free arm around Tailgate, lifting him up into a hug. Their held hands detached, letting Cyclonus place his left on Tailgate's back as well. Tailgate held onto his shoulders, resting his helm against Cyclonus' neck. "I think... I think we were both hurting each other. By accident. And we both thought that... it was our fault, and we should break up because of that."

"Mm," Cyclonus breathed, simply holding Tailgate against himself.

"But we were so self-conscious that we didn't stop and think that... maybe we could just...  _talk_  to the other, and then we could solve it together. As a-- as a couple."

Cyclonus didn't reply. He could feel the quiet whirring of Tailgate's engine against his frame, their closeness causing it to rumble through his plating in a pleasant but barely noticeable vibration.

"And, uh... now, I think... I'm sorry. I'm sorry for saying such mean things before. I'm sorry for hurting you in my sleep. I'm sorry for nearly causing your death after the whole Getaway thing. I'm sorry for not telling you about the conjunx ritus. And I'm sorry about... about how you reacted to me getting cybercrosis."

Cyclonus let his optics dim. "I apologize as well. For not talking with you about your actions in your sleep. For neglecting you when Getaway hurt you. For being disrespectful to you prior to that. And for saying and doing such terrible things to you when we first met."

Tailgate let his frame relax, running his hand up Cyclonus' neck to gently touch his jawline. "When I first met you, Cyclonus," he whispered, "I thought, I don't have a chance in Hell with this guy. Who would've thought, huh?"

"Apparently the entire ship," Cyclonus said with a smirk. He felt the laugh ring through Tailgate's frame before he heard it.

"So," Tailgate said after his laughter had quieted down. "What are we now? Dating?"

"Would you like to be?" Cyclonus asked.

Tailgate thought on the question for a moment. "Well... what do  _you_  think, Cyclonus?"

At this point, they were facing each other eye to eye, with a light smile on Cyclonus' face. "If you would entertain me, I'd like to try being conjunx endura. If you aren't ready for the commitment, I understand, but I've pictured it so many times that I--"

Cyclonus was cut off by Tailgate's faceplate pushed against his mouth, and a light flicker of electricity blinking between them.

Tailgate started to move away, but Cyclonus held him still. He returned the kiss as best he could, offlining his optics without a second thought. The mask felt warm against his lips - visibly smooth, but he could feel the tiny nicks and scratches from wearing it every day. Idly, he traced the transformation seams along Tailgate's lower back, feeling how the warmth extended through Tailgate's entire frame.

Tailgate pulled back, slower this time. "And, heh, sorry for not being able to kiss properly."

"What do you mean?" Cyclonus smiled. "That was wonderful."

"So, um..." Tailgate moved his hands back down to rest against Cyclonus' chest. "You probably want me to not  _spread the word_  about us... being conjunx? Not yet, at least?"

Cyclonus nodded. "I would appreciate that. But don't let it worry you, alright?"

"Okay! It'll be our little secret," Tailgate said. "The first of many, probably!"

 

* * *

 

It had barely been any time at all when Whirl approached him in his quarters on the improvised ship (his quarters, of course, being more of a communal recharging space than anything).

"Y'know, I'd been planning on calling off betting on you two," Whirl said with a vocal smirk, leaning against the doorframe. "I thought it was gonna get bad.  _Real_  bad."

Cyclonus didn't look up from the sword he was polishing. "Was it  _hope_  that kept you from calling it off, or  _laziness?"_

Whirl shrugged. "I didn't wanna disappoint everyone. Besides, your relationship drama is none of their business."

"But it's  _your_  business, apparently."

"Of course!" Whirl walked over to sit beside Cyclonus on the makeshift berth.  _"Everything's_  my business."

"Is that so," Cyclonus said flatly.

Whirl nodded. "But enough chitchat! I've got something very important to tell you, Cyclonus..."

Cyclonus looked over, raising an eyebrow. "What, has Tailgate told everyone  _else_  on the ship about our conjunx ritus?"

Surprisingly, Whirl stumbled back onto his pedes, appearing stunned. "Your  _what?!_  Tailgate just said you  _kissed,_  I--"

The sword clattered to the ground as Cyclonus jumped up, realizing his mistake.

"Hey now, I'm just messing around, I totally know you two are a thing now," Whirl said, interweaving his claws together and clicking them a few times.

"Whirl," Cyclonus huffed, "it's been a long day."

"I know, I know." Whirl placed a claw on Cyclonus' shoulder, his posture relaxing. "So I just wanna say... congrats. On finally telling him. I'm... really glad you did, honestly."

Cyclonus smiled. "Thank you. You've helped me - us - so much, in your own way."

After a short "aww", Whirl pulled Cyclonus into a comparatively aggressive hug. "All I ask is that when you two move in together and have a bunch of sparklings, you name one after me."

Cyclonus just rolled his optics, but didn't say no - because at that point, who's to say that  _wouldn't_  happen?

**Author's Note:**

> Somewhere in Skip, Rung sighs happily. Big thanks to @jambandit, @birbteef, @lordingstars, and @givemecatspls on Twitter for egging me on while I wrote this!


End file.
